


Nightmares of the Past, Dreams of the Future

by Night_Fracturer



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Blood and Violence, Childhood Friends, Discrimination, Dreams and Nightmares, Eventual Fluff, Family Dynamics, Flashbacks, Gen, Hybrids, Sad Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur is mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28823550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Night_Fracturer/pseuds/Night_Fracturer
Summary: On this day many years ago, humans and halfborns used to live together in the village in harmony, until the humans turned on the halfborns and tried to kill them off. But the halfborns fought back with the help of a god apple and a special blade. In the end, the humans were driven out of the village, never to be seen again, and since then the halfborns have thrived.Now, they still celebrate the day even long after everyone that had been there passed away. It’s still an incredible tale and it never fails to instill awe in kids just like Clay.The elder holds up the sword, a beautiful blue blade with an engraved obsidian handle and a razor-sharp edge tipped with diamonds. They call it the Techno Blade.Clay turns to look at his friend and finds Dave’s gaze firmly locked on the blade, his eyes sparkling with desire.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) & Original Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	1. The Little Knight

The air is filled with birdsong and the clack clack of wooden weapons clashing. Beneath the golden sky, two children wrestle in the tall grass, crushing daisies and tulips as they tumble over each other. Groups of moths alight on the gentle wind, clouds of pollen fanned out behind them. 

One of the two boys jumps up, holding his splintered oakwood sword high in triumph. His crown, woven together by wool scraps and spider silk, hangs precariously off the side of his head. The boy lets out a shout as he’s tackled to the ground, his crown pushed off his head to land somewhere in the grass. 

The other boy’s burst of laughter quickly turns into a delighted wheeze. His porcelain mask shields most of his face, but his bright grin is clearly visible, his sun-kissed skin and freckles highlighted by the bright green hoodie he wears. 

“Got you again, Dave!” The boy squeals, brandishing his small spruce-wood axe proudly. 

Dave scowls and shoves the laughing boy off. “Get off Clay!”

Clay scrambles to sit up, ready to launch into another skirmish but suddenly stops. His grins spreads impossibly wider and he doubles over with another bout of wheezing. Confused, Dave scratches his head only to realize that his crown is gone. In its place is a random assortment of flower petals. 

Jumping up, Dave frantically begins searching for his lost crown, diving through the sea of tall grass until he finds his prize only a few paces away. 

As he’s fixing his crown atop his head, he turns and sees Clay still laughing to the point of breathlessness, but it’s something else that makes him pause. On the other boy’s back is an equally hilarious smattering of flower petals sticking to his hoodie. Dave’s low chuckles turn into louder bursts of laughter when Clay turns and realizes what his friend is looking at. 

Once they’ve both regained enough breath, they pick themselves up and make their way back to the village. By now the sky has darkened to a deep red and purple and neither boy wants to be caught out at night by monsters. 

“Ah man, this is gonna take forever to wash out!” Dave complains as he picks the sticky petals from his pastel pink hair. 

Clay, who hasn’t even attempted to remove the petals from his hoodie, only snickers at him. “It suits you.”

He glares at Clay, who is completely unaffected. So Dave takes a handful of petals and slaps them on Clay’s mask. The boy jolts back and freezes in shock for a moment. “Daaaaave!” he whines, but Dave simply smirks in response.

“Race you back to the bell,” he says and then books it to the center of the village, a sputtering Clay just behind him. 

——

Dream wakes from his dream with a gasp. Frantically looking in all directions and seeing nothing but leaves and empty forest, he relaxes just a fraction. A quick glance at the sky shows him the moon has moved from just peeking over the tree-line to nearly right above him, telling him it’s been several hours since he fell asleep. Everything is just as he left it and he breathes a sigh of relief. 

Leaning back against his tree but never fully relaxing, Dream stares at the branches that have been his home since last night. It’s been years since he last thought about Dave. He had completely forgotten about the Flower Petal Incident, but now that his dreams have revived the memory his heartstrings are being pulled.

He wishes he could go back to that field and roll around in the flowers once again. He wishes he could see that dumb wool crown and pink hair. He doesn’t want to think about where Dave probably is now, already knows the most likely answer. His heart aches at the thought. 

Normally, Dream would already be up and traveling once again, but this time he sits there for a little while, just thinking until he doesn’t want to think anymore. 

Eventually Dream slings his bag over his shoulder and drops down from the tree branch. He takes a quick glance around, finding only more trees and some birds. Pulling out his fractured compass, he heads in the direction that the needle points, adjusting his mask as he goes. 

——

Why Dream thought becoming a thief was a good idea, he has no idea, but he can’t exactly stop now. Snatching gold and emerald from people's pockets as he casually passes by has become as natural as breathing. Over the years he’s gotten so good at it that even if he was allowed to get a job he probably wouldn’t take it. Stealing pays better anyway, even if it tends to get him in quite a bit of trouble. 

This new place he’s in is large enough to have a castle and a decently-sized library but their guards are severely lacking. It took them 8 days to figure out Dream was there and another day to actually find him and chase him out. By that point though he had already stolen quite a bit of the king’s hoard of wealth from right under their noses. 

It’s as he’s making his way across the bridge out of the tiny kingdom that he sees it. One of the perks of being a skilled thief is having eyes in the back of his head, which is how he sees the little boy who pops his head up to watch Dream as he crosses the bridge. When Dream turns to look at him the boy squeaks and disappears under the bridge. 

Curious, Dream leans over the railing and peers under. The boy is there, crouched in the mud with a small bag and crafting table beside him. The boy seems startled to see him and Dream tilts his head. Adorably, the boy tilts his own head in the same direction. 

It only takes a cursory glance at the boy’s ragged clothes and the makeshift pillow and blankets in one corner to know that this kid lives here. He wonders where the boy’s parents are, if they’re alive or not, what tragedy happened to result in him living under a bridge.

With exaggerated, flashy movements, Dream hops over the railing and lands in a crouch in the mud not far from the boy, who jolts slightly but doesn’t run. 

Flipping his bag over from his back to his front, Dream begins to rifle through his things until he finds what he’s looking for. When the half stack of sweet berries and cooked fish comes into view, the kid’s eyes go wide. When Dream holds it all out for the kid to take, his eyes go even wider if that’s possible. 

“Really? For me?” He asks tentatively despite the hunger in his gaze. 

Dream nods and holds them out farther. “I have plenty,” he insists, smiling gently when the kid eventually does take the food and starts wolfing it down immediately. 

“Who are you?” The boy eventually asks around a mouthful of berries. 

Dream shuffles over until he’s under the bridge and sits down and the boy follows his lead by sitting nearby, just out of reach just in case. Smart kid, he thinks ruefully. 

“I’m Dream, the thief on the wanted posters.” 

The boy gasps, his eyes sparkling in that way that kids have when they see something they think is really cool and interesting. 

The kid straightens and points to himself proudly. “Well I’m Jonathan and I’m gonna be the best knight ever!”

Dream smiles a bit sadly. He’s met many kids who have a dream like that, but life has a way of being cruel. He wonders how Jonathan plans on becoming a knight from under a bridge. 

“Oh no, I’ve finally been caught by strong Knight Jonathan,” Dream laments and is proud of the bright smile it elicits from the kid. 

“Don’t worry Dream, you’re my friend and I would never turn you in!”

Ignoring the implications a statement like that could have, Dream continues to humor the kid. “Oh how can I ever repay you?”

“Can you show me how to do thief stuff?” He asks excitedly. Dream can’t find it in himself to refuse. 

By the time he finally leaves hours later, Jonathan knows both how to swipe a few coins from someone’s pocket and how to avoid other thieves, and even gives him some advice about only stealing when he needs to so he doesn’t get hunted like Dream. 

He hopes the kid achieves his dream of becoming a knight one day. He resolutely ignores the pit in his chest that yearns for his old childhood friend. 

——

You’d think that after years of being on the run that Dream would get used to it. Hunters are always chasing after him and the bounty on his head and he’s gotten good at avoiding most of them, but it never ceases to be a fight for his life.

Every minute he continues breathing is simply borrowed time and he knows that, but the fighting spirit in him never dies. Every time he thinks “this is it, this is where I die,” he always manages to slip away, whether it be by luck or skill or whatever else. He is the thief that can’t be caught, the masked man that refuses to surrender, eternally chasing after dreams he can never achieve. 

That’s exactly what he’s doing now as he leaps over a gaping ravine to reach the ruined portal just over the next sand dune, a pack of five hunters just behind him. It’s becoming more and more rare to come across ruined portals as kingdoms send people out to scavenge the materials from them. Dream is lucky to have found this one. 

The hunters behind him are weighted down with iron armor and so they are forced to go around the ravine, giving Dream enough time to sprint to the treasure chest by the portal and throw it open. Inside he finds several gold nuggets, a flint and steel, and some enchanted boots. A wicked grin stretches across his face as an idea begins to form. 

Dream quickly ties the boots together and slings them over his back. The hunters have caught up with him now and he tries to flee. A sword is raised in the air and just as the hunter swings it to chop off Dream’s head, he ducks and runs in the opposite direction, slipping right under the blade and between all of the hunters at once. 

Startled, the hunters shout at each other to give chase. With their momentum lost, Dream is able to put some more distance between himself and them. 

The ravine stretches out before him, a gaping maw in the earth ready to swallow him whole. He doesn’t hesitate to jump right in. 

He lands with a splash in the water at the bottom. It’s not a pleasant landing but it’s better than breaking bones or burning to death. He quickly reaches for dry land, spreading water everywhere as he pulls himself out. He’s glad he invested in a waterproof bag. 

Predictably, the hunters are at the top of the ravine arguing whether they should jump down or not. In that time, Dream slips on the boots, making a show out of struggling to untie them from each other. Two of the hunters jump and before they can hit the water Dream steps out onto the water. Instantly, the small pool is turned into thick sheets of ice beneath him. 

Dream doesn’t stay to watch the hunters hit the ground. He hears a sickeningly loud crunch and then screaming. He disappears into the nearest tunnel. 

He keeps running until the only thing he can hear is the echoing of his breathing and he can barely see his hand in front of his face. Only then does he dare to take out a torch to light his way. He abandons the boots and makes his way through the tunnels, taking ransom twists and turns to throw them off his trail. 

He’s soaking wet and the tunnels have a chilling breeze that makes him shiver. The hunters are probably expecting him to get to the surface but instead Dream goes deeper. 

The air gets thinner, the shadows darker, until eventually he finds what he’s looking for. The soft glow gets brighter and Dream rounds a corner to find a pit of molten lava. The warmth radiating from it is heavenly and he holds his hands out to unfreeze his fingers. 

The torch is discarded in the pit before he reaches into his bag once again to retrieve a line of spider silk and a trigger. It’s risky to set up camp so close to danger so he needs to be prepared. An alarm system is only the first step. 

By the time Dream finishes setting everything up, he’s exhausted. His legs ache from the long sprints and crazy stunts. The lava’s heat is incredibly inviting and soon enough Dream is propped up against the stone wall with his axe in his lap, fast asleep.


	2. The Dragon

“Isn’t it pretty?” Dave asks, eyes sparkling.

Clay, far too warm in his hoodie but too focused on the sight before him to think to take it off, stares in awe.   
His entire field of vision swims with red. Vast caverns of maroon stone carved out by massive rivers of lava are dotted with old fortresses and patches of vibrant green trees and twisting thorns. With every breath of air the incredible heat warms him from the inside out and ash floats around his head with every exhale. 

The nether portal stands tall behind them, the magical aura seeming to suck everything into it like a vortex. 

“This is where you were born?” Clay whirls on Dave with an astonished expression. 

Dave straightens proudly and nods. His pointed ears, underbite, and naturally pink hair all stand out here as markings of a piglin bloodline, the bloodline of a ferocious warrior. Clay had always known that Dave was tough but actually seeing the scorched lands that he comes from really puts things into perspective. 

“Wow.” 

Dave begins to walk away and Clay follows without question purely out of habit. He turns to Clay with a mischievous smirk and says, “wanna go explore the fortress before our parents find out where we are?” 

It’s risky. Their parents had explicitly told them both multiple times not to go into the nether on their own let alone going to a fortress where wither skeletons and blaze roam the halls. 

“Of course,” Clay cheerfully replies. 

——

Dream wakes slowly this time. He blinks his eyes open and his gaze falls on the pit of lava beside him for several long moments. 

Pushing himself up, Dream shoves the memory to the back of his mind where it belongs and goes to gather his things. The tripwire is easily dismantled, along with the other traps he set up. It’s all practiced motions, things he’s done dozens of not hundreds of times before. He’s been caught unaware while he was sleeping only twice and has learned his lesson since then. It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you. 

Everything is stuffed back into his bag and he carefully makes his way through the tunnels up to the surface. Now that he’s well-rested and not dripping cold water everywhere the hunters will have a more difficult time catching him, that is if they’re still trying to catch him after what he did to their teammates. He winces at the thought behind his mask and proceeds to not think about it any further. 

Briefly checking his compass again, Dream makes his way across the desert under the starry sky. He still has a long way to go. 

——

The desert kingdom of Sasai had never been a pleasant place even before severe droughts ravaged the landscape and made it nearly inhospitable. Crime of every imaginable caliber rampages through the streets no matter the time of day. With so few resources, everything is a precious commodity that must be hoarded with as much determination as a dragon guarding its nest. 

You’d think that this would be the perfect hunting ground for a thief like Dream, but with the hefty bounty on his head places like this become his worst nightmare. 

Normally Dream would avoid this place like the plague but he’s running low on arrows and he needs to find an anvil to repair his axe. With hunters constantly chasing him, he needs to get these things taken care of as soon as possible. It’s just his luck that Sasai is the nearest kingdom with nothing else in miles in any direction. 

Dream keeps to himself as much as possible here, pulling his hood further over his mask and blending in with the shadows. He keeps an invisibility potion gripped tightly in his hand the entire time. 

It takes far too long, but eventually he does find a blacksmith who allows him to borrow his anvil and he barters with a merchant for enough arrows to last him until he can make it out of the desert. A few people give him a second glance as he passes but so far he doesn’t think anyone has recognized him. 

Dream checks the arrows to make sure he’s not being scammed and concludes his business with the merchant. He turns to leave and senses something different about the crowd around him. 

Immediately on guard, Dream makes for the nearest dark alley and observes. He downs half the invisibility potion just in case. He can’t be too careful in a place like this after all. 

The people are livelier than usual, the streets more full. There’s a kind of spark in the air like TNT about to go off. Creeping closer, Dream strains to hear the conversation floating around. 

“Did you hear?” 

“They’re getting what’s coming to them.”

“A shame we can’t see it.”

“I heard beheading.”

Dream can’t make much out of the little snippets of conversation he can hear, but it sounds like trouble. He knows he should let it go, ignore it while he still can and get out of this terrible place. This time his curiosity gets the best of him however and he follows the crowd. 

The deeper into the kingdom he gets the thicker the crowd becomes until he’s forced to climb up the sides of the surrounding buildings to avoid getting trampled. He takes the second half of the potion as he goes.

Finally, he arrives at the very center of the kingdom, a large paved space with a wooden platform holding a massive golden bell. Dream scrambles up to the top of the building and perches on the edge to get the best vantage point. 

On the platform stands a man that Dream doesn’t recognize, but the engraved iron armor he wears tells him he must be a highly ranked warrior. He stands there silently until the people below quiet down enough for him to speak. 

“My fellow citizens, welcome! Today I have a special treat for you all!” 

The man rolls his shoulder and another man in leather armor walks up to stand beside him, but that’s not what Dream is paying attention to. No, his gaze is locked on the five halfborns being dragged by chains behind him. 

Frozen to the spot, Dream feels his heart turn to ash in his chest. 

The first in the line is a half-dragon woman, her dark scales and long silver horns shine in the sunlight. Her head is hung low and she stumbles onto the stage, one of her legs heavily scarred. When she holds out her hands for balance Dream can see that her claws have been removed and he feels his stomach flip. 

The four others behind her are in just as bad shape as she is. The half-wolf has a muzzle strapped to his face and there are still-bleeding scratches around it like he tried to rip it off. Another half-wolf, smaller and with a reddish hue to his fur, sticks close to him, a muzzle on his face as well. Behind them is a half-blaze with fiery red hair and skin like gold with bloody lashes clearly visible on his back. The last in line is a half-enderman split down the middle, half black and half white, with a painful-looking metal blindfold on. 

The more Dream looks at them, the more memories threaten to rush to the forefront of his mind. Memories of raging fire and screams cut short. 

He takes a shuddering breath, then another and another, until it hurts to breathe at all. He wishes he didn’t have to breathe. He wishes he could wake up in the woods and realize this is all a terrible nightmare. 

His gaze slides over to the guards, one in leather and one in iron. He realizes they are speaking to the crowd but Dream can’t hear a thing they’re saying. The man in iron grins and laughs at something he said and suddenly there’s a shift. 

The absolute horror that Dream had felt before disappears and in its place is a cold fury directed at the smiling man before him. He reaches back and grips the handle of his axe hard enough to splinter any other person’s weapon. Not his though. His axe is strengthened, fueled by his anger, his blood thirst. 

Dream takes a deep breath and leaps into the crowd below. 

He lands on a merchant’s cart struggling to break through the thickly-packed people and leaps over the side to disappear among them. With the invisibility still in effect nobody can see him but they can still feel him shoving his way through with single-minded focus. 

The axe is pulled from his back and held behind him, careful not to nick anyone lest they realize there’s a weapon in their midst. He doesn’t care for sneaking right now though, and shoves his way through, quickly making his way toward the platform. 

The closer he gets, the more the invisibility wears off. The people see him coming and the crowd parts before him on their own. A hush falls across them all, the sight of his axe by his side and the mask over his face drawing their attention away from the stage to him instead. 

They know who he is, there’s no use in hiding it anymore. This place is packed with hunters and criminals, people who would jump at the chance to take the bounty on his head, but now here they stand, silent, watching. 

The guards, realizing something is happening, stop their speech. When the crowd parts enough and they see Dream stalking towards them, their eyes widen comically. 

He sees the way the leather-clad man reaches for his sword and allows a wicked grin to light his mostly-hidden face. Before the sword can be fully pulled from its sheath, Dream has already vaulted over the railing and cleaved his way through the armor and his shoulder to midway down his torso. 

Dream hears the screams as if he were underwater miles away, a kind of distant hum easily ignored. What he does hear clearly is the slide of the man’s sword as his hand goes slack and allows it to return to its sheath, the sickening squelch of organs and tissue as his body slides from Dream’ s blade and thumps to the floor, the drip drip of blood falling from the tip of his axe. 

Dream turns to look at the iron-clad man. He’s staring at his fallen comrade in horror, gaping and shaking. Dream finds it ironic that he hasn’t begun to draw his own sword despite being of higher rank and likely carrying more experience. He must have seen war before, and yet now he’s frozen in place. Maybe these two were good friends. 

It doesn’t matter to Dream, who raises his axe high above his head, like an executioner and his victim. The axe swings down on his head, practically splitting him in two. Blood splatters on Dream’s previously white mask. 

He barely has time to scream. 

Breathing deeply and smelling only copper, Dream releases the tension he had been holding. He succeeded in his mission, he killed both of the vile men that thought this spectacle was doing humanity a service. Now the threats are gone and he can focus on the others. He takes another deep breath for good measure. 

Dream slides his axe from the corpse at his feet and secures it to his back once again. It’s still soaked in red, but he can deal with that later. 

He turns to the halfborns, the people he did this for. The first thing he sees is the horrified expression the dragon woman holds and Dream feels a stab of guilt. He doesn’t regret what he’s done, but he’s sorry they had to see something like that. 

The wolves just behind her look relieved more than anything and the other two look like they can’t really decide what they’re feeling. 

A quick glance at the crowd shows him they aren’t a threat right now. Most of them have run off screaming and the rest are either in the process of leaving or taking advantage of the chaos to cause more chaos. 

Dream pulls out his dagger and approaches the larger of the wolves first. The dragon woman flinches as he passes and he resolutely ignores the ache in his chest at the reaction. 

The wolf man holds out his shackled hands eagerly and Dream wastes no time plunging his dagger into the lock and twisting it open. As the man rubs at his raw wrists Dream reaches for the back of his muzzle and saws through the straps holding it in place. 

The man tears it from his face, tossing it to the stone ground below. Before Dream can reach for the shackles on the other smaller wolf, the man reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. 

“Thank you,” he says in a gravely, unused voice. The way he stares at the eyes drawn onto his mask makes him feel strangely vulnerable.

Dream nods in acceptance and the man releases him. He makes quick work of the shackles on the others, along with the muzzle on the other wolf and the blindfold on the half-Enderman. 

He goes to the dragon woman last and approaches slowly, keeping his posture as submissive as possible in an attempt to appeal to her dragon instincts. 

It seems to work well enough and she reluctantly holds out her hands. He works fast and is careful not to touch her in case she reacts violently. He backs away as soon as she’s free. He doesn’t fail to notice her calculating gaze on him. 

He glanced over the five of them and they all watch him as well, each with different expressions that Dream doesn’t have time to decipher. While the chaos might be buying him a lot of time, sooner or later there will be reinforcements, likely more than he’ll be able to handle. 

“Follow me,” he tells them, and leaps over the railing once again, heading for the direction he knows the exit is. He peers over his shoulder expectantly and waits for the others to make their way off the platform and trail behind him. 

He leads them through back alleys and hidden tunnels. Their progress is much slower than he’d like on account of several injuries and his efforts to avoid being seen by the many passing groups of people. It’s not ideal, but they do eventually make it to the massive wall surrounding the kingdom. 

“What now?” The dragon asks tersely, leaning heavily against a wall to take the weight off her injured leg. The others shuffle around uncertainly, just as anxious as Dream is to get out. 

He turns to the right, following the wall, and the others can do nothing but follow his lead. It takes a minute of searching until Dream finally finds what he’s looking for. 

Here, hidden behind packed houses, is a secret gap in the wall leading to the outside. It was abandoned and forgotten by the smugglers who used to use it often, and now Dream is one of the few who knows of its existence. 

Ideally the others would go through first and Dream would follow, but it’s clear by the way they anxiously stare at his bloody axe and mask that they don’t exactly trust him and so to ease their minds he slips through first. Luckily, the others aren’t far behind. 

When they make it to the other side, the sun is high in the sky and unbearable heat radiates from the sand. They had no trouble getting out of the kingdom, now they have to survive the desert. 

When the others step out onto the sands Dream realizes that he’s the only one wearing shoes, so he quickly digs through his bag and pulls out enough boots for the five of them. They’re all metal and enchanted, not ideal for the desert heat, but it’s better than nothing. 

They all quickly slip on their boots and begin the long trek to find shelter. 

——

By the time they finally come across something other than endless sand dunes, it’s late in the afternoon. The moon is just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting the mountainous savannah landscape in shadows. 

They find a small cave-like overhang near a river and decide to make camp there. 

Dream pulls some wood from his bag and lights it, fanning the flame until it becomes a decent-sized fire. The others, so exhausted they can barely keep themselves upright, scoot closer to the fire. Now that it’s beginning to get colder, the heat is a relief instead of a torture. 

Dream hands them all more than enough food, cooked fish, sweet berries, and bread, and then retreats to a nearby log outside the cave to keep watch. None of them are in any shape to do it themselves and he gets the sense that he makes some of them anxious. It’s better to keep his distance. 

His axe is pulled from his back and placed in his lap. The blood has long since dried and begun to flake off.  
He could probably let the rest flake off on it’s own, but that wouldn’t be fair to the others or his blade, so he takes a spare cloth and goes through the motions of cleaning it. 

Behind him he can hear them talking in hushed tones, and Dream can guess what the topic of conversation is. He doesn’t bother with trying to eavesdrop. 

Little by little, the red is peeled back to reveal the shining blue metal beneath. It’s a beautiful blade, finely crafted and well-maintained. Despite it being an axe, it clearly wasn’t forged to chop wood. It’s an axe for killing, and it’s ability to do so has served Dream well over the years. 

He’s had the thing for so long that he can’t quite remember where he got it, if he bought it or stole it. It’s never been enchanted, has never needed the extra edge that most other weapons do. At this point he should probably give it a name, although Dream has no idea what he would name it if he did. 

He doesn’t realize how zoned-out he is until someone sits beside him and he startles, nearly dropping his axe. It’s the dragon woman, surprisingly enough, and she’s staring at him with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. 

“What is your name?” She asks, and for a moment Dream forgets himself. 

“Uh, Dream,” he finally responds awkwardly. 

She nods thoughtfully. “I am Durani.” She glances away for a moment and then back to him. “Thank you, Dream... for what you did.” 

Surprised, Dream shrugs and looks away.   
There’s a moment of tense silence between them until Durani speaks again. “You’re a halfborn, like us.” The question is posed as a statement, but it is a question nonetheless. 

“I am,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate past that. There’s a reason he wears a mask, after all. 

“I am sorry.” 

Dream turns to look at her, confused. What could she possibly be sorry for? 

Her gaze turns a bit sad and this time when she looks away she doesn’t glance back, like she’s seeing something only she can see. 

“We are both survivors of the Red King’s Decree.” 

He grits his teeth. The Red King, the king who had such a burning hatred for halfborns that he drafted a decree to wipe them all out, prompting other kings from all across the lands to do the same. He’s the reason halfborns are so close to extinction, why they’re being executed in the streets and hunted like rabid animals. Just the thought of the Red King leaves a distinctly bitter taste in his mouth.

Durani continues. “I survived by hiding, but you survived by becoming a warrior. I should not have judged you so harshly.”

Dream fidgets with the cloth still in his hand. “You don’t have to apologize. I don’t blame you.” 

He’s long since gotten used to seeing the terror and hatred he often sees in people’s eyes when they catch sight of his mask. He’s made his peace with the fact that no human will ever react any differently to the knowledge of what he is. Even though Durani isn’t human, it doesn’t matter. 

“My apology stands nonetheless.” 

Not knowing what to say, Dream only nods in response. 

Durani stands, careful not to put too much weight on her bad leg. Before she can make her way back over to the others, he speaks up. 

“Wait.” 

She pauses and tilts her head at him curiously. Quickly digging through his bag, Dream finds his prize and hands it over to her. 

She gapes at him as he presents a shiny god apple in his hand. It radiates a warm energy and almost seems to glow in the darkness surrounding it. 

“Here, for your leg.” He holds it out a bit farther, prompting her to take it. 

She carefully reaches out a scaled hand to grasp the apple and holds it up to her face. She stares at it as if it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, and maybe to her it is. 

She glances at him with wide eyes. “How— You cannot just give this to me it’s— Do you know how rare these are?” 

“I do.” In his many years of travel, Dream has only ever seen three god apples in his life. He’s one of the lucky few who has tasted one before and felt the incredible magic it possesses course through him. 

“I cannot take this.” She holds it out for Dream to take back but he pushes it back to her. 

“You need it more than I do,” he insists. 

She opens her mouth like she’s about to protest but stops. “You are sure?” 

“Absolutely,” he says with a soft smile. 

Luckily that’s all the confirmation she needs. Durani takes a bite out of the apple. Instantly her eyes widen. Dream doesn’t fail to notice the way she straightens, the way her scales begin to shimmer and her scars fade away. She takes another bite and another, and by the time she’s done she looks like a completely different person. 

They both watch as her leg knitts itself back together until even the scars vanish completely. It’s like nothing was ever wrong with it in the first place. 

Hesitantly, Durani stretches her leg out before her, marveling at the lack of pain and stiffness that had become expected. She holds up her hand and finds her claws have been returned, just as sharp as they had been before. 

She turns to Dream and he realizes there are tears in her eyes. “Thank you,” she breathes out. 

He smiles at her. “Your welcome.” 

Durani then takes a steadying breath and wipes her eyes. She stands, this time on completely steady feet, and holds out a hand for Dream.

“Join us?” She asks, and he can’t find it in himself to refuse. 

He spends the rest of the night by the fire, listening to people share their stories and occasionally telling his own. He completely forgets he’s supposed to be keeping watch as they all stay up late into the night. 

He doesn’t miss the way Durani carefully takes the seeds from the apple core or the way she hands them out to everyone in the group, even Dream. 

After so long on his own, it’s nice to be around people again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, all the hybrid characters in this chapter are original characters I made up on the spot, except for the enderman who is supposed to be Ranboo. He never says his name, I just wanted to add him in this fic somewhere.   
> 💜


	3. Villages and Spiders

“Wait for me, Clay!” Dave shouts, almost tripping over an exposed root as he races to catch up with his friend. 

Clay, who’s way ahead of him, stops only for a second to turn to Dave. “Hurry up, we’re gonna miss it!” Before Dave can catch up, he speeds off again. 

“How are you so fast?” Dave huffs behind him and Clay smiles. 

Racing along the flattened grass trail leading through the small village, Clay takes a sharp turn around a house and almost runs face-first into a person. He barely manages to stop himself in time and almost falls over in the process. 

Before him, everyone in the village gathers around the cobblestone-paved center where the old oak tree stands. If Clay stands on the tips of his toes he can barely make out the golden bell that hangs from its lowest branch over the crowd. 

He’s too short to see over the people in his way and there’s nothing nearby that he can stand on. He eyes the roof of a nearby house and wonders how difficult it would be to climb to the top. 

Just then, Dave comes to a stop by his side, doubling over to catch his breath. Clay, finding this highly amusing, snickers at his friend and mockingly pats him on the back. 

When Dave finally straightens, he runs into the same problem Clay did. Dave is only slightly taller than Clay and so neither of them can see anything past the crowd. 

Clay is just about to suggest that they climb up a roof when Dave squares his shoulders and he instantly knows what’s going to happen. 

Dave grabs his hand and Clay sighs fondly as his friend forcefully shoves his way past the people. This isn’t the first time that Dave has taken the direct approach to things. He often prefers to throw himself head-first at a problem with stubborn determination. 

Soon enough they break through the wall of people and Clay gasps excitedly. 

Tall torches and lanterns are arranged in a circle around the oak tree, an invisible barrier separating the audience from the show. In front of the tree is Lucy, a half-blaze woman, moving with all the grace in the world. Fire dances across her skin, flowing along her body with every movement like water. She twists and twirls in ways Clay has never seen before and he quickly finds himself mesmerized by the performance. 

She seamlessly plucks a short sword from the ground and moves with it like it’s a part of her. With every slash through the air, fire spews from the blade, always stopping just short of burning anyone. 

As the sun sets and darkness surrounds them, the flames illuminate the area in orange light and Lucy’s dance becomes sharper, more forceful, like she’s fighting off invisible demons. 

From the crowd comes Lucy’s partner, Rei, a half-rabbit woman. She leaps into the dance like she was meant to be there, the sleek tan fur of her ears and legs blending in perfectly with the bright orange and gold of the fire around them. 

They move together like two warriors locked in combat, perfectly matched and unable to gain ground. 

Rei reaches down to grab a strip of black cloth, quickly tying it around her wrist just as seamlessly as Lucy does with her own piece of red cloth. Clay knows the colors are supposed to represent two characters in a story with Lucy as a halfborn and Rei as a human. 

Suddenly the dance shifts as Rei becomes more aggressive and manages to snatch the sword right out of Lucy’s hands. Now they are no longer equally matched as Rei easily backs Lucy further towards the center of the circle where the tree stands. 

Rei raises her sword high, about to deliver a killing blow. Then, out of nowhere comes a burst of fire and metal clashes with metal. 

The fire and smoke clears to reveal Lucy pushing back against her attacker, a shining golden apple in one hand and a glittering blue sword in the other. 

Their battle begins anew, but this time it’s Lucy who pushes Rei back towards the crowd, easily countering every attack Rei throws at her until eventually the battle ceases entirely. Rei throws down her blade and disappears into the audience. Lucy stands victorious, her sword held high and the apple held close to her chest just over her heart. 

The crowd bursts into cheers and loud applause. Lucy smiles warmly and Rei appears again to stand beside her. One of the elders comes out of the crowd to take the blades and apple before the two women bow together. When they straighten again, Lucy pulls her partner close and gives her a quick kiss, making Rei practically melt into her arms. 

As they leave the circle to join the audience, the elder stays, rehearsing the story of how their little village came to be just like they do every year. 

Clay, just like everyone else in the village, has heard the story a million times. 

On this day many years ago, humans and halfborns used to live together in the village in harmony, until the humans turned on the halfborns and tried to kill them off. But the halfborns fought back with the help of a god apple and a special blade. In the end, the humans were driven out of the village, never to be seen again, and since then the halfborns have thrived. 

Now, they still celebrate the day even long after everyone that had been there passed away. It’s still an incredible tale and it never fails to instill awe in kids just like Clay. 

The elder holds up the sword, a beautiful blue blade with an engraved obsidian handle and a razor-sharp edge tipped with diamonds. They call it the Techno Blade. 

Clay turns to look at his friend and finds Dave’s gaze firmly locked on the blade, his eyes sparkling with desire. 

——

It’s been a long time since Dream last slept near another person, let alone a group. Normally he only allows himself short naps in the branches of tall trees hidden deep in the forest where it would be difficult for a hunter to reach him without waking him, although he’s not unused to resting in caves as well. 

He doesn’t sleep nearly as long as the others and wakes up to the moon only just starting to fall. 

Taking a moment to sit up and stretch, Dream considers his situation. 

He’s been having strange dreams lately, memories resurfacing that he hasn’t thought of in years, memories of a happier time. With each memory the ache settled deep in his gut grows stronger. He misses his village, his neighbors, his friends. He wants his home back. 

But he knows that’s impossible. 

The Red King’s Decree made sure of that. 

Shaking away his darkening thoughts, Dream pushes himself up, picks up his bag and axe, and carefully navigates his way over the five sleeping forms, around the charred remains of the campfire. 

There are a few mobs wandering around but they are few and far between. It would be better to avoid them entirely rather than try to clear them out. 

He seats himself on the same log from the day before. It’ll be a few hours before the others wake up, maybe longer, so Dream reaches into his bag and pulls out a book. 

It’s an old, beaten up thing that he stole from a king’s library, he can’t remember which one. It was one of the only books in the library that wasn’t engraved in gold or protected by glass, just as tattered then as it is now. That was the reason it had caught his eye and in a moment of recklessness he had decided to take a closer look. 

It’s a bestiary, written personally by someone who clearly had a great passion for nature and the mobs inhabiting it. Each chapter is dedicated to a different mob and its halfborn counterpart for those that have them. 

The author describes everything in great detail, often going on long tangents about the beauty of evolution and how unique each individual is among a species. Despite having read it many times, Dream never grows bored of going through it again and again. In his time traveling he’s also added side notes to the book here and there, filling up nearly every inch of space in the margins that haven’t already been filled. 

Now Dream turns to the first page to start all over again.

The hours pass by. Dream barely registers time passing at all as the sun steadily rises higher in the sky and he keeps his nose firmly planted in the book all the while. It isn’t until Durani calls his name that he finally loses focus with a jolt. 

Blinking away his tunnel vision, he turns to see that the campfire has been relit and most of the group has woken up. They’re preparing breakfast from the remnants of the food he gave them yesterday, still more than enough for all of them. 

Durani beckons him over. Dream closes the book and stuffs it carefully back into his bag before he joins them. He takes a seat beside Durani. 

“Apologies for interrupting your reading,” she tells him, a hint of amusement in her tone. He must’ve really been zoned out. 

He scratches the back of his neck and shrugs awkwardly, prompting a light chuckle from Durani. 

“I must admit, you are quite the oddity.”

Dream tilts his head at her questioningly. 

She smiles and bobs her head back and forth as if thinking of what to say. “I was under the impression that you were a ruthless killer, and perhaps you are, but you are also… hmm, how to put this. I believe the proper phrase would be ‘huge nerd’.” 

Dream barks out a surprised laugh. He leans back slightly, almost offended. “I’m a nerd because I read books?” 

She shakes her head. “I have never seen someone so absorbed in the pages of a book that they did not realize the sun had risen.”

He opens his mouth to protest but she continues.   
“Nor have I ever seen someone so confident and yet so shy.” 

He’s about to make some kind of retort but stops. Durani is still smiling in amusement but there’s a knowing look in her eyes too, like she can see right through him. He’s not sure exactly what she means, but he gets the sense that she’s right.

“I guess so,” he concedes. 

They lapse into a mostly comfortable silence. Dream listens to the crackle of the fire and the argument between the two wolves over who should get the most sweet berries. The half enderman and half blaze continue to sleep, lightly snoring. 

Is he really shy? 

He supposes the only way to tell us to interact with other people, something he hasn’t done in a long time. He knows he didn’t used to be shy when he was still a child, but that doesn’t mean much now. What even counts as a shy person? He should probably just take Durani’s word for it. 

Soon enough food is passed around, the last of the group are woken up, and they all fall into the lull of friendly conversation. 

Like last night, Dream doesn’t contribute much, preferring to listen to everyone else as they trade stories and joke around. 

When the atmosphere is as light as it is now it’s almost difficult to believe that only yesterday they had all been walking to their deaths. The scratches around the taller wolf’s snout have scabbed over but are still very visible, and the same goes for everyone else’s injuries. None of them are life threatening or infected, he made sure of it, but the scars will remain long after they’ve healed. A constant reminder. 

Despite all this, in the moment it’s like none of it ever happened. Like they hadn’t been about to get gutted for the entertainment of the masses. Like Dream hadn’t easily sliced through two soldiers in a fit of rage right in front of them. Like his clothes aren’t still stained with their blood. 

He shakes the thought from his head and flicks a berry into his mouth. Instead he focuses on mapping out a route to the nearest piece of civilization in his head. It’ll be a long journey and he shouldn’t cloud his mind with pointless thoughts. 

After breakfast, Dream leads them to a nearby river where they can all wash up and gather enough water to keep them hydrated. He only has one waterskin so he digs out some leather from his bag and crafts some more. While the others are taking their time, he takes out his enchanted fishing rod and starts fishing. 

By the time everyone is ready to leave, he’s caught enough fish to last him a week plus a bunch of junk. He throws most of it back into the river for someone else to find. Honestly, how does a saddle even get into a river in the first place? 

Eventually they get going. Dream takes them through the savannah and Mesa biomes, navigating twisting canyons and valleys, past the seemingly endless stretch of plains, until finally he spies what he’s been looking for in the distance. 

It’s a fairly small village nestled between a cliff and a dark oak forest with a river running right down the center, tempered by water wheels and aqueducts. 

Dream can sense the unease radiating off of the others as they draw closer. Civilization has not been kind to them and they are understandably anxious about entering it once again.

One of the villagers trudges through the mud of her carrot farm, her wide straw hat not doing much to stop the heat from making her sweat buckets. As she leans down to tear another carrot from the ground she briefly looks up to wipe the sweat from her brow and instead sees Dream. 

Briefly abandoning her little farm, she stands and waves enthusiastically at him. He returns with his own small wave and a smile. 

Quickly shoving her carrots to the side for later, she hops onto the cobblestone path and runs toward the center of the village, disappearing from view. 

“You are familiar with this place I assume?” Durani asks from just behind him. 

He nods and hums. He peers over his shoulder and sees more questions in her eyes, but it’s better to just show her. 

Soon enough they step foot on the cobblestone path themselves and make their way through the village. Some of the villagers glance or smile in their direction but simply go about their day for the most part, a stark contrast from how he’s sure the halfborns are used to being treated.

They arrive at the center of the town where a tall wooden structure stands. Before Dream can walk up the steps and knock, the double doors are suddenly thrown wide open. The farm girl is there again, grinning so wide it’s almost creepy, with a man standing just behind her looking comically surprised. 

The man smiles warmly. “Dream,” he says fondly. 

“Hey, B,” Dream replies with his own smile. 

B casts his gaze over the group trailing behind him and he grows visibly excited. “I see you brought friends! I never thought I’d see the day,” he teases. 

Dream pouts at him but his expression quickly cracks back into a grin when the girl reaches out to whack his arm. “Took you long enough. Thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Dream snatches the straw hat right off her head, holding it up high enough that she can’t reach. “Come on. You know me better than that Drista.”

She crosses her arms and glares at him. “I know you’re a huge d—“ 

He squishes the hat onto her head before she can finish her sentence. Before she can retaliate, Dream turns to B. 

“These guys are going to need a place to stay.” He points to the group behind him who were watching his exchange with varying degrees of surprise. He supposes it makes sense given how different he’s acting now. 

B straightens and smiles yet again. Dream imagines if he had a tail it would be wagging constantly. “Of course! We only have one spare house right now but I’m sure it’s big enough to fit a few extra beds. Oh, we also have tents if anyone prefers to sleep outside.” 

Before anyone can respond to the almost-question, B is already making his way down the path with a gesture telling them to follow. 

Dream and Drista fall to the back of the group, launching into a round of bickering, completely oblivious to the multiple odd looks they receive from the others. 

The house they arrive at is near the outskirts of the village where most of the crops are grown. A large dark oak tree stands beside it, it’s long branches casting the place in soft shadows. There are pots full of colorful flowers on the windows. 

B swings the front door open to reveal a mostly barren interior with only some furniture here and there. The halfborns spread out through the house, each exploring at their own pace. Despite his current argument with Drista, Dream notices how nervous they seem and feels a surge of protectiveness well up inside him. 

“Do you know where Lani and the others are?” He asks suddenly. Drista gives him a curious look but doesn’t call him out for the odd change of subject. 

“I think they’re out in the forest right now. Why?”

Dream leans down to whisper to her. “Do you think you can get B to help you find them?”

Drista purses her lips and glances between him, B, the halfborns, and then back at him. Dream figures she knows exactly what he’s trying to do. Eventually she nods. 

She slips on an expression of childlike excitement and trots over to B, quickly pulling him away from an awkward conversation with one of the wolves. As she passes Dream, practically dragging B behind her, she smirks and winks at him and he nods his thanks in return. 

Now that Dream and the others are alone, he can see the way they visibly relax and he breathes a sigh of relief. It makes sense that they would be so tense around humans, considering. 

Dream slips his bag and axe from his back and drops them beside the cold fireplace before taking a seat on the floor just in front of it, leaning against the couch behind him. It’s not cold enough to light a fire yet but it’s still far too early to go to bed, so he might as well relax for a bit. Drista should be back eventually with more kids in tow, or maybe she won’t. All he can do is wait. 

Durani is the first to take a seat on the couch, slightly to his left. Taking that as an invitation, the younger wolf hops over the back of the couch to sit on his right and the others find their places as well. The couch is too small for all five of them so the half enderman ends up draped over the back and the half blaze manages to fit himself in the tiny nook against the window while the two half wolves take up as much space on the couch as possible. 

While the wolves loudly argue over which one of them should have the most leg room, Durani leans down slightly to talk to Dream. 

“You seem to know these people well.” It’s a question posed as a statement, the same question she had asked earlier. Dream sighs. He supposed now is as good a time as ever to explain himself. 

He avoids looking back at her, preferring to stare at the cold fireplace instead. “I lived here for a year or two when I was young, after the Decree.” 

Durani hums. “That must have been…” She trails off, but Dream knows what she means to say. 

After the Decree, many halfborns were driven from their homes or killed. Many more became orphans, aimlessly wandering the wilderness or desperately searching for anything resembling a family. Some of them were taken in by a new family and some were not. Many of them were never seen again. 

“Why did you decide to leave?” She asks after several moments of silence. By now the wolves have stopped fighting and he’s all too aware of everyone’s eyes on him. 

Dream reaches for his bag and, after a moment of digging through his things, pulls out a compass. The glass is fractured in a few places and the paint on the inside is old and faded. There’s a purple sheen to the metal, a clear sign that it’s been enchanted. 

“I’m not sure why I left originally, it was a long time ago, but during my travels I found this.”

He turns it carefully in his hand, idly running his fingers along the dents and cracks that it’s been collecting since long before Dream found it. 

“It’s not a normal compass, it’s supposed to point to something specific. Every person I ask about it tells me a different story. Some say it points to your soulmate, others say it points to whatever your heart desires most. One guy tried to tell me it points to a fountain of youth.” He chuckles but the sound is empty even to his own ears. 

“I don’t know what it points to, but I’ve never been able to find whatever it is. It goes in all directions. Sometimes I swear it leads me in circles.” 

“Then why do you still follow it?” Durani asks softly.   
Dream shakes his head. “I don’t know. It’s like… I know it wants me to keep looking. Maybe it’s cursed or maybe it’s just habit at this point. I can’t explain it.” 

“Does it only work for you?” The smaller half wolf asks excitedly. Dream is surprised by the question and turns to look at him. 

“It should work differently for whoever holds it.” 

The wolf’s eyes sparkle as he stares at the compass in awe. Dream fiddles with it for a moment before mentally shrugging. He holds it out for the boy to take.   
“Would you like to try?”

Without hesitation, he snatches the compass from Dream’s hand and holds it before him expectantly, his tail wagging frantically behind him. Dream and the others watch as the needle spins around and around until finally coming to a stop to point to the boy’s right. 

He jumps up in excitement, much to the protest of the larger wolf who gets a mouthful of tail fur. 

The boy hops off the couch, intent on following the needle, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s inside a house and therefore can only walk a few paces in every direction. Dream fully expects him to walk straight into a wall, but something else happens instead. 

As soon as the boy takes a step, the needle swiftly switches direction. The boy cocks his head to the side adorably and also switches direction to follow the needle. As soon as he takes another step, the compass switches direction again. 

Experimentally, the wolf boy moves the compass a little to the left and then to the right. It points directly at the couch the whole time. 

The boy looks up and squints suspiciously as the larger wolf. “Wait a minute…” 

He takes a few steps around the couch, even hops onto it and off again. The entire time, it points to the only other half wolf in the room. 

“You’re not a fountain of youth!” He shouts accusingly. 

The other wolf gasps in offense and the rest of the room bursts into laughter. Dream snickers quietly.  
He wonders what this is supposed to mean. The two wolves are obviously very close, probably brothers from the way they act around each other. 

Dream has been chasing the needle of the compass for years, but this wolf finds his goal immediately after picking it up. Does the compass lead people to what they desire most? Does it lead them to whatever makes them the happiest? Is it something else entirely? 

The young wolf quickly passes the compass to the older one, who takes it in hand skeptically. Once again the needle spins and spins until eventually locking in place. Funnily enough, it points directly at the younger wolf. 

“You’re not a fountain of youth,” he mutters sarcastically. Dream hides another snicker behind his hand. 

The compass is passed around a few more times, but nobody else is able to find what it leads to like the wolves had. Their needles point to some place or person far away, just like Dream’s. Who knows if they’ll ever find it in their lifetimes.

Dream takes the compass back, idly watching the needle once again lock onto some unseen target before stuffing it back in his bag. He’s definitely not going to find it anytime soon. He learned that lesson years ago.

As the sun begins to set and turn the sky a deep orange and purple, Drista finally comes back.

He bursts in through the door unexpectedly with a pack of children right behind her, one girl and three boys.

“What’s up nerds!” Drista shouts proudly. Behind her, the other kids give half-hearted cheers as if she’s done this many times before. 

Dream, never one to pass up an opportunity to embarrass his friend, locks his arm around Drista and gives her a noogie, completely messing up her hair in the process. 

“Get off!” She whines, shoving him away. Dream laughs and dodges her attempt to punch him in the arm. “You’re a demon, y’know that?” 

“Like you haven’t told me that a million times,” he retorts, easily dodging another punch. “You should probably get some new material.”

Drista huffs and crosses her arms with a pout. Dream just leans his arm on top of her head, a silent jab at her height. She doesn’t push him off this time and Dream grins. 

He turns back to the halfborns and is pleased to see that they seem much more relaxed now than they were before. Maybe it’s because all of the newcomers are children or maybe it’s because of the familial way Dream talks to Drista, but he’s relieved all the same. 

Without turning to look at the other children, Dream points to them and recites their names with ease.   
“This is Lani, Vurb, Spifey, and Zelk.” 

Lani, a young girl with long brown hair pulled into a bun and a yellow bee-themed dress, gives a wave and a small “hello!” 

Vurb, a dog halfborn with a flower sticking out of the fur on his head, is the first to step forward. He immediately zeroes in on the younger of the two wolves and Dream can immediately tell that they’re going to cause chaos together. 

Zelk, a deer halfborn with two tiny antlers, ear muffs that don’t come even close to covering his ears, and very short shorts that are almost completely hidden by his oversized sweater, steps up beside Vurb and also sees the younger wolf, a wicked grin stretching across his face. Dream sighs internally.

Spifey, the only human out of the three boys, looks mildly worried when he sees Zelk’s and Vurb’s reactions to the halfborns. Dream imagines he’s also sighing internally. 

Sure enough, barely a few minutes in and the three boys have kidnapped the wolf halfborn and are already causing chaos somewhere upstairs. Dream hears multiple crashing sounds but decides he really doesn’t want to know and keeps his nose out of it. Lani and Drista stay with him downstairs and strike up a pleasant conversation with the enderman halfborn and Durani. 

Once or twice, Dream reaches over to tug on Drista’s hair, only to act like he didn’t do anything as soon as she turns around. Durani seems to find it amusing, even if Drista certainly doesn’t.

They all stay up late into the night simply talking and having fun. Until everyone starts to get tired and head upstairs for bed. 

The kids leave to return to their own houses. Dream would be worried about what their parents might think of them coming home at five in the morning if he didn’t know that they did this practically every night. 

Durani is the last to head to sleep, giving him a questioning glance when he doesn’t follow. He waves her off, mumbling something about being up in a minute. She gives him a long, considering look but eventually nods and continues up the stairs.

He hears the creak of wood above him and then complete silence. Dream lets out a long sigh. 

The compass rests in his hands and he stares down at it. The needle stays pointing somewhere towards the forest. He realizes it’s changed directions again since a few days ago. Not by much, just a slight shift to the right, but enough to be noticeable. As he stares at it, he almost expects it to shift directions again, continue leading him in circles, but it remains stubbornly pointed in the same direction. 

Years ago, he would’ve thought that the shift meant he was getting closer to his goal, but now he knows that the compass is just screwing with him. It always has been, since the beginning. 

For the millionth time, he wonders why. It led the wolves to each other, so obviously it works. It has to lead to something or else it would just constantly spin in circles. So then why can’t he find it? Why does it randomly change directions and lead him on wild goose chases? Is the thing he’s looking for teleporting all over the world? Is he chasing multiple things at once? Is the compass just really indecisive? 

The longer he follows, the more tired he becomes. He can only scrape up the motivation to follow the damn thing for so much longer. Eventually he’s going to give up. But what then? Without the compass, he doesn’t have a purpose in life. Sure, his hobby of Robin Hooding around the various kingdoms is helping people, but it’s not enough. 

It feels like a part of him is missing. There’s a hollowed out void inside him where something or someone is supposed to be. No amount of gold or emerald is going to change that. But the compass might, if only it would cooperate for once. 

If he does give up, where would he go? What would he do? Would he simply wander around the world aimlessly, stealing things or helping people as he goes? Would he return to this village, the only place where people have been kind to him and just farm and play with the children all day? 

Both futures sound nice, but Dream can’t shake the feeling that neither would be satisfying. Neither of them have purpose. 

Dream doesn’t know what to do. With each passing day, he grows more weary with no goal in sight, no light at the end of the tunnel. 

He roughly shakes his head, ridding himself of the negative thoughts. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore. So he pushes himself up off the floor and makes his way out the front door, making sure to be as quiet as possible. 

The cool night breeze fills his lungs and with a deep exhale he tries to let go of the emotions threatening to bubble up. 

He takes a walk, heading for the center of the village. He passes many houses, recognizing each one. He wonders how everyone is doing lately, hopes they’re okay.

In the very center of the village stands a tree. It’s not like the huge ancient oak in the center of the village he was born in. This one is a dark oak, much younger but still quite big, with lush green leaves. There are two bells on either side of it and a collection of trinkets hanging from its branches. 

Dream remembers first coming here, how B had explained to him that this is where people who are lost can be remembered. He remembers the stories he would tell of each piece of treasure and who they were meant to represent. 

Looking up, a flash of light catches his eye. Hanging at the very end of one of the branches is a simple necklace. With a shaking hand, Dream reaches for it, holding it oh so gently. In his palm rests a single gold nugget, barely larger than a pebble, but it feels like the weight of a boulder bearing down on him. 

He remembers when he used to wear it constantly, refusing to ever take it off. But then B had told him of the tree and the stories and he had insisted on adding the necklace to the branches as well. It felt right.   
He never explained to B or Drista or any of the others who it was that he was remembering, but the memories were too painful to speak of. 

He snatches his hand away. Dream blinks away the wetness of his eyes and sighs for the dozenth time that night. He hopes his friend is in a better place now.   
Swiftly turning on his heel, Dream makes his way back to the house. 

He slips inside just as silently as he left and scoops up his bag and axe from beside the fireplace. But just as he turns to leave again, this time for good, he comes face to face with Durani.

He jumps. When did she get there? Nobody has been able to sneak up on him in many, many years. He must be really out of it if he didn’t hear her coming down the stairs. 

“And where are you going?” She asks with all the authority of a mother who’s just caught her child with their hand in the cookie jar. 

Dream resists the urge to sigh again. He’s so tired.   
“I can’t stay here, Durani.” 

She hums and nods. Her lack of disagreement is a little surprising, but she still has a look in her eye like she’s not going to let him off easy. 

“You wish for us to stay here?” 

“This place is safe,” Dream agrees. “It’s far away from any kingdoms and you would all be happy here. I figured even if you all go your separate ways, you’ll always be able to come back here if anything happens.”

Durani nods along as he talks. “And you will continue to follow the compass, yes?”

“I will.”

She hums and flicks her gaze around the house with appreciation. “This village is very lovely. I can tell that you have spent much time here, that you love the people in it.”

Dream opens his mouth to interrupt, excuses ready to flow out, but she continues before he can speak. 

“But I know you are not satisfied here. There is a sadness in you when you speak of the compass.”

Durani steps closer to him, Dream frozen in place. She places a hand carefully on his shoulder. Normally he would resent being touched, but in this moment the contact soothes some unseen corner of his soul and he can’t find it in himself to pull away.

“I understand, Dream. And I don’t blame you. This really is a lovely place, after all. I may just end up staying here.” 

She smiles, and no matter how hard he looks he can’t find a hint of sadness. She pulls him into a hug and Dream is suddenly breathless.

He hasn’t been hugged since… 

With shaking hands, he wraps his own arms around her. “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she whispers. 

When she pulls away, Dream has to force his fingers to unclench from her shirt. She gives him one last smile and then heads back up the stairs. 

Dream watches her go, and when he finally leaves and begins his long trek through the forest, it’s with a heavy heart. 

“Thank you,” he says as he turns to look back at the house over his shoulder, and though he knows there’s no way she could possibly hear him, he swears he can feel her gentle gaze on him as he disappears into the shadows once again. 

——

It’s a while later before he finally manages to find a decent enough cave. The compass is leading him further north, and there’s a place he’d like to stop at on the way. 

The kingdom of Cari is a fairly pleasant place to stay. It isn’t rundown or crawling with mercenaries and thieves like Sasai, and the people there are nice. It would seem like a totally average kingdom if it weren’t for the absolutely massive amount of poor farmers barely scraping by right on the outskirts.

You wouldn’t see them if you stayed for only a day or two. Dream wouldn’t have noticed either if not for his tendency to sleep in trees just outside of kingdom borders and happened to stumble across them. 

Surrounding the short cobblestone walls are hundreds of tiny, pitiful shacks full of people unable to leave.  
He had seen the depraved state they were forced to live in, noticed that there wasn’t a single halfborn in sight, likely driven out or killed, and the rest weren’t much better. 

So he had created a sort of tradition. Every time he visits Cari, he robs the king of as much riches as he can, distributes it all to the poor citizens, and terrorizes the guards and king into letting them keep it. 

Slowly but surely, living conditions have improved over time as Dream becomes a name to be feared and celebrated. He remembers one time where the king had actually peed himself when Dream showed up to steal from them again. 

But as living conditions improve, so do castle defenses. They’ve become wise to most of his usual tricks and he hears the number of guards rises every year. As such, all of the windows are barred, all the doors heavily guarded and inspected regularly, even the secret passages, and the guards’ helmets no longer cover their faces. Honestly, Dream is a bit flattered. 

But this presents problems, and to get into the castle again he needs a lot more supplies.

Hence why he needs a big cave like the one he’s currently navigating. With a torch in one hand and a hastily crafted pickaxe in the other, he scans the walls for anything that could be useful, which is to say, everything. Emerald, iron, even coal. He’ll take anything he can get. 

His stone pickaxe isn’t nearly as well made as something he would find at a blacksmith’s, more closely resembling a stick attached to some stone than a tool. But even if it’s slow and breaks pretty frequently, it gets the job done. He has plenty of time to spare anyway, and it’s not like he’s short on stone to repair the thing. He’s just going to abandon it once he’s done here anyway. He doesn’t need a pickaxe often enough to have a permanent one.

By the time his bag is close to overflowing with chunks of raw ore, he comes across something interesting. Sticking out of one of the tunnels branching off the larger tunnel he’s been navigating, he sees the tail end of an abandoned mineshaft. 

The wooden support beams are old and rotting and the minecart tracks are rusted and broken in several places. Despite it’s disrepair though, Dream knows from experience that these sorts of places usually have valuable items in them, as long as he’s willing to risk getting lost in the many maze-like tunnels. 

Weighing his options, Dream decides to go for it. He could use a few more diamonds, and he could always sell enchanted tools for more emeralds. 

He dives in, making sure not to set the low-hanging wood beams on fire by accident. He’d rather not cause a cave-in if he can help it. Those are always a pain.

The first tunnel goes pretty far, and he runs into a few skeletons along the way. Then he makes it to the first intersection and takes out a piece of coal to draw an arrow on the floor pointing back to where he came from. 

Dream prides himself on his ability to navigate places like this without a map, but he’s gotten lost before and it’s better safe than sorry. Straightening back up, he decides to go straight ahead for now. 

He goes on like this for a while, marking his path down diligently as he goes. He runs into a few dead ends or gaps too large to jump across. He also finds plenty of shiny ores in the walls. Even if he doesn’t find any good loot, the sudden detour won’t be a total loss. 

It’s too dark to really notice the increased frequency of cobwebs, or the beady red eyes in the distance.   
It’s as Dream is mining a patch of redstone that he hears it. 

The scuttling of legs, so many legs. Dream leaps up, dropping his pickaxe with a thud in favor of grabbing his axe. He holds his torch up higher but the light doesn’t reach far enough to see anything. For a moment, the only thing he hears is the crackling of fire and his own breathing.

Then, out of the darkness comes a spider. It’s small for a spider, only about the length of his forearm, but it’s not the size that worries him. It’s the color, the slightly greenish hue to its exoskeleton. It’s not just a regular spider, it’s a cave spider, fangs practically dripping with venom. It’s many red eyes are focused entirely on him.

A second spider comes up behind it, then a third and fourth, and more, until Dream can barely see the stone beneath them anymore. 

He runs.

He might be able to fight off a few of them, but dozens? He’d probably be trampled to death long before the venom would take effect. 

The smart thing to do here is run.

As he comes to the nearest intersection, he finds more red eyes staring back at him, from the same tunnel he came in from no less. He’s forced to switch directions before they can pounce on him. 

The swarm follows him, aggressive hissing echoing around him, drowning out everything else. The further he goes, the more cobwebs litter his path. He knows he’s getting closer to the nest, but the only other direction he can go is back, directly into the jaws of certain death. 

He’s suddenly regretting his decision to go into the mineshaft. 

An unexpected dip in the ground makes him trip, nearly cracking his face against the stone floor as he falls forward. His torch hits the ground, sending a few sparks flying. Dream has just enough time to look up and around at the place he’s fallen into.

His gaze lands on hundreds of spider eggs clustered together and so many red eyes. The torch goes out, plunging him into darkness.

A shiver goes up his spine as dozens upon dozens of tiny legs begin crawling over him. Scrambling to get up and get away, Dream can feel them getting under his hoodie, in his hair, up his legs. They’re everywhere, and he tries to get them off but it’s too dark to see and they’re digging their fangs into his flesh. The angry hissing is getting louder and despite the absolute revulsion at the situation he’s in, he needs to focus on getting out.

Blindly stumbling forward, dragging his axe with him, he finds a gap in the wall that must be a way out and squirms his way through. He tries in vain to pull the tiny spiders off as he runs from the larger and more dangerous adult spiders. It feels disgusting, and he could swear he already feels the stinging bite of venom in his veins. 

His savior comes in the form of the sound of rushing water, and he desperately runs for it. There’s a little bit of light now, probably from a nearby lava pit, so he can see the way the tunnel opens up into a much wider area leading down with a stream and a small pool at the bottom. He doesn’t hesitate to jump in.

He lands with a splash, and he shivers at the feeling of the baby spiders releasing him from their jaws to float listlessly through the water. He pushes himself out of the pool with a gasp and as soon as he’s out he practically rips his hoodie from his shoulders, with his pants and boots following shortly after.

The curled up forms of the spiders still stuck to the fabric, and although he hates how cold and vulnerable he is without clothes, he really doesn’t want to deal with spiders anymore. 

He pulls them from his hair, from his clothes, and only after he’s absolutely sure they’re all gone does he shake out as much of the water as he can and slip everything back on.

If he never sees another cave spider in his life it’ll be too soon. 

Once his boots are laced up and his axe is back in his hand, Dream heaves himself up.

The sudden wave of dizziness that nearly sends him back down comes as a surprise. He didn’t expect the venom to take effect so quickly. He needs to get far away as quickly as possible, before more spiders decide to keep chasing him. 

Dream stumbles down the tunnels. There are more sections of the mineshaft here, but he’s so far away from the entrance that he doubts he’d be able to find his way back even if it wasn’t getting progressively harder just to put one foot in front of the other. 

Eventually he comes to a dead end somewhere and before he can even think about turning around his legs give out from under him. His head thuds painfully against the old wooden floor but he barely feels anything past the overwhelming nausea making his stomach twist unpleasantly. 

He doesn’t have any antidotes, he remembers vaguely. He knows that a single cave spider bite is rarely fatal, but he’s covered from head to toe in bite marks and he’s already far too weak to reach for any kind of regenerating potions. 

His vision swims and he feels too warm, sweat beginning to drip down his face. He wishes he had the energy to take off his mask and let the cool breeze of the tunnels cool him down. Instead, his eyes close and he only knows darkness.


End file.
